


Cash Flow

by barghest



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: ?? in a way, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Deadlock McCree, Explicit Consent, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Strap-Ons, Stripping, Sugar Daddy, Top Hanzo Shimada, Trans Character, Trans Hanzo Shimada, Trans Jesse McCree, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Yakuza Hanzo Shimada, Young Jesse McCree, fuckssake, jesse is like mid 20s and hanzo is his canon age, kind of, kinda????, like lbr its fuckin. a Mess, surprise! theyre both trans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 14:01:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11292132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barghest/pseuds/barghest
Summary: Jesse McCree is in need of money. Hanzo Shimada just happens to be able to help.(a wildly, wildly self indulgent piece. more explanation inside)





	Cash Flow

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this bc i got mad at another piece of writing i was doing, then i got mad at This and stopped for a while, but now ive cranked out like five pages in one night and this stupid beast is Done
> 
> anyway, extremely flimsy plot, au where jesse never leaves deadlock until his mid 20s when they dump him in japan for whatever reason, and hanzo stayed a part of the shimada clan as a yakuza/clan leader (and is like ten years older than jesse but whatever). naughty shenanigans and sugardaddying ensue. mostly an excuse for me (a trans person) to write about trans pwuss. thats literally it. the writing is so spotty here omg.

Jesse McCree doesn’t know quite how he ended up here, gripping the shoulders of an older man and desperately riding the hand between his thighs whilst the car they’re in weaves leisurely through Hanamura’s evening traffic. Except that would be a lie, to pretend like he hadn’t angled himself directly onto the fingers curling inside him ever since he had first seen them curled around a champagne flute in the dim light of a gentleman’s club. He had not fallen into the lap of Hanzo Shimada, Hanamura’s looming tattooed hand with the city in its vicelike grip, without good reason - and that reason was money.

It had started simply enough.

\---

He has always been lucky enough to know how to move his hips. They were what he turned to when money became hard to come by, supposed friends leaving him high and dry in Shimizu port, only dust in his wallet and ticket scraps in his pockets. Jesse remembers looking up at Mount Fuji towering through the clouds in the distance and shrugging his shoulders a little, his feet already pointed towards the nearest bar.

Hanamura wasn’t particularly far away, and he had danced himself there in no time, pockets jingling again as he stepped off the train, foot cushioned by a light dusting of cherry blossom petals that ghosted over the platform. Another time, and he would stop for the beauty, but Jesse had instead made a beeline for the nearest gentleman’s club and charmed his way inside. His Japanese may be rudimentary enough, but wealth’s language is the same the world over.

Tailored cuts and fine fabric, champagne that smelt the colour of gold, the glint of money clips and firearms inside bodyguards’ blazers - Jesse knew them well, and he let them draw him forth, a swagger in his step as he approaches the bar. He feels eyes on his back before he can order anything, but doesn’t turn straight away, instead fixing the bartender with a smile as he gestures to one of the whiskies on display. The clink of ice in his hand, Jesse turns the same smile on the eyes that have not left him the entire time.

They belong to a man cloaked in blue and gold, his only exposed skin being his face and one heavily tattooed arm, which curls lazily over the back of the seat next to him. He doesn’t smile back but instead arches one brow, lip curling ever so slightly to expose pointed white teeth. Jesse doesn’t need to be dared aloud.

“This seat free?,” unanswered he sinks into it beside the man, the back of his neck against the man’s muscled arm. The shadows of the booth they have occupied shift a little, more than one security guard carefully inspecting their master’s new companion. Neither of them look up. Jesse is aware he is pretty enough, but the approving look in the man’s eyes as they wander up and down his body boost his ego all the same. Up close he can see the grey streaks in the man’s hair, the glimmer of rings on his fingers, the twitch of amusement when Jesse speaks, which prompts him to continue, “hope yer don’t mind me stickin’ to English, still don’t have a handle on your language yet, y’know.”

“Not at all,” the voice that greets Jesse is smooth and rich like good whiskey, the same warmth pooling in him stomach at the sound. He takes a sip of his glass as the man adds, “whatever would make you most comfortable.”

“S’most charitable of you,” Jesse grins, leaning against the arm that shifts to circle his shoulders.

“I try my best,” the man sips sake without taking his eyes off Jesse, still unsmiling but not without interest in his eyes. “What brings you to the country, then, cowboy?” Jesse catches himself before he can look too surprised, as if the boots on his feet and the hat he had dropped on the booth’s table didn’t give him away. “So rarely does your type come this far just for a glass of whiskey.”

Jesse laughs, “m’bit of a dancer, you could say. Like finding new places to dance.”

The man leans forward a little, head tilted in interest, and Jesse can almost smell the crisp notes that would be pressed into the waistband of his briefs if he kept this up, “I am quite fond of dancing.”

\---

Dancing could mean a variety of things, but Jesse’s sole stipulation is that it included hip movements, which this certainly does, undulating his torso as he straddled the man’s lap in one of the club’s private rooms. The man had not removed his kimono, whilst Jesse had peeled off his own clothes piece by piece until just the boots and briefs remained, a light sheen of sweat clinging to his thighs. His back is turned to the man as he rolls his hips, feeling fingertips ghost over his back.

“Tell me your name,” the man’s words seem to breathe into his spine and Jesse bites his lip a little, glancing over his shoulder.

“Jesse. What’s yours?” The man doesn’t reply, and before Jesse can repeat the question, a hand slides between his legs and strokes over the thin strip of fabric over his crotch, pressing in just enough to rub his clit, “hey, hold on now--”

The hand stops and pulls away, “I apologise. Would you like to stop altogether?” Jesse does not answer right away, running a hand through his hair to buy him some time. “If you would like to stop or end it, you may just say so,” the man repeats, his voice softer as he leans away from Jesse’s body, “you will still be paid, if that is what worries you. That can be done now if you so wish.” It’s tempting, for sure. Just take the money and walk, before the man rubs his clit into full hardness.

Jesse hesitates for only a moment longer before he decides, reaching a hand beneath him to press the fingers back between his thighs.

\---

The man lets Jesse call him Hanzo - and Hanzo pays Jesse enough to get a fairly decent hotel room for a few days, a set of clean clothes, and ramen for dinner. He lies back in bed the next more, thighs spread beneath the sheets and fingers tracing over his lips where Hanzo had pushed past the night before. They had exchanged numbers (clearly a rarity for both of them, judging by the sharp eyes on his back as he entered Hanzo’s numbers into his phone), and Jesse can’t help wonder when he’ll get a call back. Clearly his initial performance had been very good, if the satisfied look on the older man’s face had been anything to go by.

Rationally he should get up and figure out what he was doing for breakfast, but instead Jesse pushes one finger past his lips and circles his clit slowly, just the way Hanzo had done. He closes his eyes, adding another finger inside and gently rubbing himself in a steady rhythm, hips swaying a little at the memory of Hanzo’s hands on his thighs. Hanzo had known what he was doing, fingers deft in how they curled inside Jesse, pushing his thighs apart further so he can thrust three digits deeper into him whilst his thumb brushed over Jesse’s clit. Jesse hitches a leg up, still feeling the dents Hanzo had left with his other hand when he had gripped Jesse’s hip, holding him in place whilst his fingers spread slowly, stretching Jesse’s hole until he could feel his juices running down his inner thighs.

A soft noise slips past Jesse’s lips and he’s interrupted by the ring of his phone before he can push his fingers any deeper. Jesse picks it up, one hand still between his legs.

“What are you doing for dinner tonight?,” the voice on the other end of the line doesn’t pause to introduce himself, but Jesse smiles anyway. “Dining alone is so boring.”

“Lucky for you, I’m free, but I do cost,” he can picture the arch of Hanzo’s brows at his cheek. Jesse leans back on the pillows, “wanna come pick me up?” Perhaps he’s being too forward, but the nail marks on his hips and the swell of his clit makes him cocky - which Hanzo doesn’t seem to mind, judging by his small snort.

“I am lucky indeed,” there’s amusement in his voice, “that you have the time for me. I will send a car for six. Wear something nice and shave. And give yourself a trim.” Before Jesse can reply, he hangs up, the warmth of his voice lingering in Jesse’s ear.

Jesse looks to the ceiling. Between his thighs, his hand works harder, and Jesse groans quietly as the tightness of an orgasm rises in his abdomen. Wear something nice? Whatever could that mean. He always looks nice. 

\---

Dinner is lavish and intimate in a secluded booth of one of Hanamura’s finest restaurants, his host sparing no expense to keep Jesse entertained. Hanzo waves away the ordinary wine list and orders them sake in ceramic bottles, at a price he doesn’t divulge to his guest. Jesse doesn’t question it, happy to gorge himself (just a little) on a much food as he could manage to order. But the meal is all but forgotten the moment he slips into Hanzo’s lap in the back of the car, Hanzo’s mouth on his throat and a hand in his hair.

“Eager, huh,” he manages before Hanzo kisses him, but he can’t help but kiss back, wrapping his arms round the man’s neck. Hanzo pushes Jesse’s shirt up to dig nails into his waist - and Jesse can help but groan into his mouth, his underwear already damp - and pull him Jesse flush to him, Jesse’s legs either side of his hips. The partition up front closes as the car winds through Hanamura’s streets, giving them privacy as Jesse’s hips grind into the hands holding them.

“Mhm,” Hanzo’s teeth pull at Jesse’s bottom lip. The fruity tang of the sake lingers on his tongue when he pushes it into Jesse’s mouth for just a moment, and Jesse whines softly, squeezing himself against Hanzo’s chest even as Hanzo pulls away. “Come back with me, tonight?,” his breath is hot on Jesse’s ear, “you can always--”

“Yes, yeah, ‘course,” words spill out of Jesse, as Hanzo kisses his throat, teeth pressing against his skin, “I will, I’ll come, yeah, god, I really wanna, promise,” one of Hanzo’s hands creeps up to brush over a nipple and he gasps - he is just as eager, he can’t deny that, his babbling trailing off as he rubs himself on Hanzo’s thigh.

“Good,” Hanzo murmurs and kisses him again.

\--

They stumble into Hanzo’s penthouse and Jesse snatches a glance of the main room - minimalist Scandinavian furnishings mixed with traditional Japanese art pieces, swords on the wall, two canine heads that pop up from the lounge as they pass - before Hanzo pulls him up a spiralling staircase, unbuttoning his shirt one handed. The bedroom lies just beyond the landing, and Jesse lets himself be herded into it.

The bed hits the back of Jesse’s legs and he breathes out a soft, “whoa now,” as he sits, and Hanzo slows for a moment, before Jesse pulls him back in, his fingers running through the grey in Hanzo’s sideburns. “I’m all good, promise,” he cups Hanzo’s ass, guiding him onto his lap, “got us reversed now, huh?”

“Cute,” Hanzo smiles, wolfish in the dim light, all fangs and tongue and sharp eyes that threaten to devour Jesse. He presses his chest to Hanzo’s anyway, kissing him, begging to be swallowed whole. They tangle together until Hanzo’s kimono is off his shoulder and Jesse’s pants unfastened, heavy belt buckle lying against his thigh. Hanzo dismounts him onto the bed, lips grazing over Jesse’s cheeks before he lies back to undress. Jesse takes a moment just to look and marvel at his form; he’s older, greying, but muscular, his shoulders powerful underneath the kimono’s smooth layers. He’s seen the curling stormclouds of Hanzo’s tattoo before, but now he sees its full expanse, covering the man’s arm and arching up to his collarbones. Lower down is a broad chest and tightly wound body, a trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his underwear.

“Are you going to undress, or should I help you?,” Hanzo removes his layers carefully and places them on a chair beside the bed, his eyebrows arched a little as he catches Jesse’s eye. He toes off his geta, lying back to reach the back of Jesse’s shirt and tug. Jesse flops down, met with a kiss as Hanzo peels off his shirt, tossing it aside. He’s warm, circling Jesse with his arms and pulling him closer until they’re spooning. 

Jesse shifts his hips against the bulge in Hanzo’s groin, “pleased t’see me?” Hanzo laughs.

“Of course,” he nips Jesse’s ear, sliding a hand between him to rearrange himself until Jesse hears the soft squish of a packer being pulled loose, then the dull squish of it landing on the floor. Hanzo’s hips close the gap between them and his hand finds its way into Jesse’s underwear, a finger teasing his folds. “I thought I told you to trim?,” he murmurs, stroking slowly.

“Ah, shit, didn’t think you meant that,” Jesse apologises by parting his thighs a little, hips trying to shimmy out of the rest of his clothes as Hanzo dips his finger in further, ghosting over his clit.

“No matter,” he pauses to push down Jesse’s pants and briefs to his knees, before going back between his thighs, curling his fingers in the mass of unruly pubes that springs forth. “It suits you, really,” he slides two fingers between Jesse’s folds and strokes in gentle motion. Jesse dearly wants to reach back and do the same to Hanzo, make his breath hitch like Jesse’s own which his fingers dip further inside, but he’s powerless to do anything but gasp as three of Hanzo’s fingers part his labia.

“Turn on your front,” Hanzo’s hand pulls away and he kisses Jesse’s neck, soothing the needy whine in Jesse’s mouth. Jesse is obedient, rolling over and letting Hanzo pull his hips up. “That’s better,” he spreads his thighs further in anticipation, so wet he can feel himself leaking a little as Hanzo’s lips graze his ass. He feels Hanzo’s nails on his hips first before the warmth of Hanzo’s tongue pushes into him in broad strokes, and Jesse buries his face in Hanzo’s expensive pillows to muffle the moan in his throat.

It helps none, for Hanzo hears it anyway - the rumble of a laugh escapes Hanzo, before he sucks Jesse’s folds softly into his mouth, careful to avoid teeth, a hand trailing around Jesse’s front to thumb his clit. Jesse whines and pushes his hips back, only for Hanzo’s nails to dig in more, holding him still as Hanzo kisses at his labia, before pushing his tongue deeper again, touching every corner. His nose brushes Jesse’s lips every so often, and the cold tip tingles when its brushes against him. Jesse can’t remember the last time anyone ate him out. He can’t remember the last time anyone ate him out this good. 

Hanzo returns to sucking gently downwards, gently pushing the curls aside to leave no spot unkissed, his thumb rolling over Jesse’s clit until he replaces it with his lips, the lightest of kisses on its swollen tip. He circles it with the tip of his tongue, and Jesse shoves his face into the pillows again, thighs quivering a little, gasping as Hanzo’s lips wrap around it to suck. God, he hadn’t anticipated how easy Hanzo’s touch got to him - the sight of the older man behind him, face in his pussy, just made him wetter, the warmth building in his abdomen as he glances over his shoulder. It’s lit aflame by Hanzo’s fingers sinking into him, curling inside his hole and thrusting gently in time as he sucks on Jesse’s clit, and Jesse balls the sheets in his fists at the feeling. How does he ask for more fingers, more tongue, more of Hanzo inside him.

But Hanzo hears his wordless begging and pushes three fingers into him, spreading them gently, the tip of his tongue drawing shapes around his clit before he’s back to sucking, a glimpse of his eyes filled with hunger - and that’s all Jesse needs to push him over the edge, squeezing hard around Hanzo’s hand with a loud moan. His hips shudder as the heat within his stomach releases through his thighs, and Jesse exhales hard into the pillow, fucking himself through his orgasm in Hanzo’s fingers before sinking flat onto the bed.

Behind him, he feels Hanzo remove his hand, stroking the small of his back, “don’t be afraid to be loud, Jesse.” The hand pulls away and he’s distantly aware of Hanzo discarding his underwear, fully naked as he draws level with Jesse. Between his legs, the trail from his stomach leads to a neat patch of dark hair, and nestled in the centre is the biggest clit he’s ever seen.

“Wow,” is all Jesse manages, shuffling round onto his back for a better look. Hanzo smiles and licks his lips - Jesse’s clit throbs at the reminder of where Hanzo’s just been - and gently takes one of Jesse’s hands, pressing it between his legs. He guides Jesse’s fingers to stroke the clit’s length gently, leaning into Jesse’s hand as Jesse grows more confident, fingers slick from pushing past Hanzo’s folds.

“My turn, “ Hanzo murmurs, the hunger back in his eyes as he straddles Jesse’s shoulders, fingers in Jesse’s hair - and Jesse grabs his ass to pull him closer.

\---

It seems Hanzo sleeps light - one eye sleepily watches Jesse as he crawls back into bed just past dawn, his bladder having roused him from sleep. Hanzo’s arm slides back over him the moment he crawls under the covers, fingers carding through Jesse’s hair.

“Thought for a moment you were going to leave without your payment,” he murmurs after a few quiet moments, in which Jesse has curled himself under the older man’s chin, revelling in the attention. 

“Aw, no chance of that,” Jesse chuckles a little. He is compelled to press a kiss to Hanzo’s throat, the stubble rough under his lips. Earlier, breathless and sweaty, Hanzo had kissed the scars along his chest and murmured how handsome he was, his fingers bent as Jesse rode the vibrator in his hand. He had dipped his fingers into Jesse and licked them clean, the wolf in his eyes howling for Jesse to be louder, to let himself go in Hanzo’s hands. And Jesse found himself more than happy to obey.

“Mhm, good,” Hanzo’s finger curl in his hair, his other arm firm and safe around Jesse’s shoulders, “because I was going to ask, if there was anything else you may want. Since you have been particularly special. It will not diminish your monetary rewards.”

Jesse thinks for a moment, nosing at Hanzo’s collarbones until he can answer, “I want a good packer. Like yours. Been hard to get one, they’re not cheap, y’know.” 

Hanzo smiles into his hair, “consider it done.”

\---

He is back in Hanzo’s bed within a week, kissing the man’s thighs as he fingers him, Hanzo’s clit gently poking his cheek until he turns his attention to it. Jesse has sucked dicks before, and this is similar, but somehow much better - Hanzo tastes like peaches in syrup, sweet and warm on his tongue, the tang of a dessert that’s quickly becoming a favourite. He could eat Hanzo out all day, sat obediently between Hanzo’s legs as a hand guides his mouth downwards.

“Good boy,” Hanzo murmurs from above him, and Jesse feels the warmth within him flare up at the praise, soaking his underwear. He would touch himself, but Hanzo has told him hands off, for now. “I would like to try something,” he muses, stroking Jesse’s hair, “would you let me tie you up?”

“Hm?,” Jesse pulls away from Hanzo’s folds reluctantly, tongue darting over his lips. “Tie me up? In what way?” He isn’t opposed to the idea, not entirely - but Hanzo doesn’t seem like the kind of man to have simply handcuffs lying around.

“With rope, if you would permit that,” Hanzo coaxes him upwards, a hand on Jesse’s chin gently pulling him in for a kiss. “It doesn’t have to be anything complex, I just think you would look so pretty,” his fingertips drift over Jesse’s chest, a thumb rolling one nipple until it stands hard and sensitive, “with knots and lines on your body.” He gives Jesse a languid kiss, which Jesse leans into eagerly. “Would you like to try, Jesse?”

“Yeah, mhm,” he sucks on Hanzo’s lower lip a little, smiling, “I’m game.”

Hanzo introduces Jesse to his treasure trove, a drawer in his expansive walk-in wardrobe where he keeps his favoured toys, and he picks out a black rope, softer to the touch than Jesse expected. He leaves Jesse’s legs free as he wraps the rope around Jesse’s torso and wrists, pausing every so often to check if Jesse is comfortable. Jesse relishes the delicate touches, the warmth of Hanzo’s breath on his shoulders and the back of his neck, the tightness of the rope when Hanzo pulls upon it. It coils in shapes that pull his chest out and wraps around his labia, looping up behind him.

“How do you feel?,” Hanzo kneels behind him, his knees keeping Jesse’s thighs spread as his fingertips lazily circle Jesse’s clit. He molds himself to Jesse, and Jesse presses his hips back enough to feel Hanzo’s engorged clit rub against him. Hanzo has tied Jesse’s wrists together behind him, leaving him free to explore Jesse unhindered.

“Little weird,” his hips already sway to the rhythm of Hanzo’s fingers, “but good.” Hanzo cups one side of his chest, playing with a nipple, and Jesse makes a low noise of pleasure at the attention.

“I should have threaded the rope through here, perhaps,” Hanzo muses aloud, trailing his fingers along Jesse’s slit, before hooking them around the ropes either side and pulling them down to part Jesse’s folds just a little, “then I could have been a little meaner to you.” He grinds his hips against Jesse, gently tugging on the rope - Jesse gasps quietly as it parts him, rubbing against his clit. Desperately he tries to rub down against it, but Hanzo loosens his hold, humming against the back of Jesse’s neck with amusement. 

Jesse almost whines, “c’mon, be nice to me.”

“Say please.”

“Please,” he can feel the tips of Hanzo’s fingers, so close to pushing inside him, the rope sliding excruciatingly softly against his labia, “be nice, please.”

\---

“Let me be your only client,” they’ve been fucking the afternoon away, Hanzo pointedly ignoring three phone calls with his face between Jesse’s legs, leaving deep purple marks on his thighs and sucking on his clit. He’s on top of Jesse now, holding one of Jesse’s legs up high as he eases his strapon into him in shallow thrusts. Jesse lies back against Hanzo’s pillows, the silk ribbon from Hanzo’s hair bound over his eyes, breathing already ragged from one orgasm that left him melting a little into the bed.

“H-huh?,” he’s barely paying attention to what words are being said, Hanzo’s voice washing over him like the buzz from fine wine, stoking the fire between his legs. He plays with his own chest, squeezing the pecs together the way he knows Hanzo likes it, thumbing over his nipples.

“I wish to be your only client, Jesse,” Hanzo’s voice is closer, words breathed into Jesse’s neck as he kisses his shoulder and angles the strapon to dig deeper into Jesse as he picks up the pace. “I dislike sharing.” His hips press forward until Jesse whines at the fullness within him, head leaning back on the pillows. “I will pay whatever it takes.” Hanzo bought the toy special, chosen by Jesse to be the girth that he wanted to ride - and it was perfect, pressing into him in ways fingers couldn’t, stretching him until he could take no more. It seemed to swell within him, and Jesse finds it hard to pull his attention away from his swollen clit to focus on Hanzo.

“Shit, sugar, this really th-the time for that, ahh--”, he bucks his hips a little, as Hanzo’s thumb finds his clit, “--right there, right there, right fucking there, please--”, he pulls his thighs up further, all his attention on the coiling in his stomach, the shudder in his chest growing desperate--

\---

They drink wine and eat otoro sushi in the lounge, Jesse comfortably wrapped like a gift in new lingerie, purchased earlier in the day. He feels confident enough to discard the silk dressing gown on top and let Hanzo admire him with nipples exposed, and only a thin strip of cloth holding back the curls around his folds. The delicate bows and lace make him feel quite like a present. Hanzo strokes his thigh, his eyes taking their time to roam over Jesse’s body.

“May I take this as yes, to my proposal?,” his voice is soft, the hand on Jesse’s thigh sliding up to his waist.

“Should think so,” Jesse can’t help but smile, a little cocky. Who could say no, to money and gifts and being taken care of, in return for enjoying himself every now and then. “I’m happy to. So do I get t’call ya sugard--”

“No,” Hanzo cuts him off, one eyebrow arched. “Just my name will do, which is already a privilege that few get, I am sure you understand.” He sets down his wine glass to take Jesse in properly, fingertips tracing the lines the lingerie makes in Jesse’s skin. Jesse nods a little. “Good. Then you shall receive what I have promised you. You may leave any time, you know that.”

“‘Course,” but it feels good to hear it anyway. 

“Good,” Hanzo murmurs, before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Please, get on your knees, Jesse. I am wearing no underwear.” Jesse descends to the floor eagerly, slotting himself between Hanzo’s thighs.

\---

That leads him back to the car, the hand, the shoulders he grips as they stop at a set of traffic lights and Hanzo takes the opportunity to kiss him roughly. Jesse leans into him, letting Hanzo hold him up with his free arm, the fingers between his legs playing mercilessly with his clit. He isn’t going to make it to their lunch appointment, he fears, if Hanzo is being like this on the way there. He doesn’t recall packing extra clothing into the vehicle.

Distantly, Jesse remembers this is all about money - about the packer Hanzo pushed aside earlier to finger him, about the tailored suit jacket about his shoulders, about the private apartment he has to himself rent free for when Hanzo is too busy to see him. But right now all his focus is on the warmth pooling in his abdomen and the rock of his hips into Hanzo’s hand, and for the money, Jesse couldn’t care less.

**Author's Note:**

> some real notes:  
> \- someone said you can see mt fuji in hanamura and shimizu port is the closest port to mt fuji irl  
> \- i hate gentlemens clubs  
> \- hanzos penthouse is two floors, based on floorplans of japanese penthouses i looked at. his furniture is scandinavian bc this is the future and i said so. he probably has a japanese style dining area and a kotatsu tho  
> \- geta are a type of traditional japanese footwear, and someone advised me that would be what he's most likely to wear at this sort of thing  
> \- hanzos vaginal taste is based on a) research on the interwebs (reading what other people describe them as tasting like) and b) personal experience. hanzo does taste extra sweet tho  
> \- otoro is extremely expensive tuna  
> \- its half six in the morning here on east coast australia time and im lying here like "how ooc is this?"


End file.
